


You Either Run From It (or, learn from it)

by AngeNoir



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst, Background Relationships, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 02:56:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17113121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: Gabriel Reyes has carved out an existence after his discharge from the U.S. Supernatural Forces, one that may not have been one he envisioned, but he'd come to live with it.Then, coaxed into leaving the office, he walks into a bakery and is thrown into his past - which may actually propel him into his future.





	You Either Run From It (or, learn from it)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drowsycakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowsycakes/gifts).



> I hope you like it!

“You gotta get outta this little office an’ get some fresh air.”

Gabriel looked up from the mess of papers in front of him, brow twisted down in a scowl. Jesse was standing there, hands in his pockets, his jeans scruffy and worn down. Jesse hung around the offices primarily because of Fareeha and Lena, but he was easy friends with almost everyone in the building. He was one of their freelancers; not an official member of the team here at Overwatch Investigations, but a valued member nonetheless, like that squirrely kid, Jamison, and, when she deigned to be around the riff-raff, Amelie.

“Why are you still around?” Gabriel grunted, leaning back in his chair. “Fareeha and Lena are off today.”

“I know, boss,” Jesse replied slowly, his drawl overexaggerated and enunciated, which meant he thought Gabriel was being stupid about something.

Jokes on him, Gabriel thought bitterly. Gabriel was stupid about _everything_ nowadays.

“I was just curious as t’ whether y’ wanna walk down an’ get some coffee. There’s a pretty nice place a few blocks away that’s justa pure slice’a heaven.”

Gabriel eyed Jesse a moment. It seemed a suspicious offer, but at the same time, he was sick and tired of writing reports about cheating spouses and back-alley affairs that he was stuck with now, and some coffee would be greatly appreciated.

Grumbling under his breath, he stood up and yanked violently at his coat that was sprawled over the one other chair in his office. At one time, there would have been clients in that chair, and better cases in front of him than _‘My husband’s cheating on me’_ or _‘My wife’s having an affair and I want proof’_.

Now… well.

Now there wasn’t. And he couldn’t even blame anyone except himself and his own stubbornness.

Jesse stepped to the side to let Gabriel pass. “It’s supposed ta be half day, I thought, with everyone gone or gettin’ ready for th’ holiday season. You celebratin’ anything this year?”

Gabriel gave Jesse a dark side-eye.

Snorting, Jesse shook his head and led the way out of the front doors of the private investigation offices, pausing while Gabriel locked the doors - they truly had been the last ones in the building. “Dunno why I expected differently.”

“Not like I have any holidays at this time of year,” Gabriel grunted as he shoved the keys into his pants pocket and made his way out into the crush of people thronging the sidewalks, even now in the middle of the day. “Might as well fix the paperwork up while everyone’s out with their families.”

“You ain’t gotta family?” Jesse said dryly. “You ain’t gotta home an’ a cute kitty to cuddle?”

“Shut the fuck up about my cat. You only met her because you were sick,” Gabriel hissed.

Laughing, Jesse ducked away from Gabriel’s half-hearted swipe, and he skipped forward a little. This close to the 25th, people were packed on the city streets, everyone trying to do that last minute shopping because people were procrastinators at heart, and so it was impossible for Gabriel to lunge forward and snag the rangy young man with that ridiculous stetson on his head. Instead, he jammed his hands in his coat’s pockets and glowered at that ridiculous grin.

“Aww, don’t be a sourpuss now,” Jesse said contritely. “I’m glad I gotta meet th’ little princess. Hey, maybe you can even buy ‘er some treats. I think they do th’ whole organic, made by hand shit there as well.”

While Jesse was right, and the bakery was only two and a half blocks away, it took them almost ten minutes to walk because of the congested traffic, mass of people, and general madness that was the holiday shopping crowd. Finally, they managed to step into the bakery, and the rush of warmth and humidity had Gabriel sweating instantly under his thick jacket and beanie.

Quite a few people looked at him and then looked away quickly; mothers quickly checked to see where their children were. Gabriel did his best not to curl his lip at their fear.

Jesse didn’t even pause; the young man joined the line and began yammering about the divine coffee that was available here. The shop was crowded, as one would expect during the holiday shopping, but not overly so, which was a relief. There were a few children pressed up against the display cases, and Gabriel had to admit, the sight of those glazed cakes, delicate little tarts, and towering meringues was certainly appealing. Were he younger and not, well, not looking as he was, he might have been hungrily eyeing the wares as well.

“How’d you find out about this place?” Gabriel huffed, unzipping his coat and debating whether to take it off and hold it, or keep it on. On the one hand, he didn’t intend to linger, and once he got his coffee he would be leaving right back to the office… but on the other hand, it was very warm, and he could feel his determination to leave and be gone as quickly as possible weakening in the warmth and homey atmosphere.

Realizing that Jesse hadn’t responded, he turned to look at the young self-styled cowboy. Jesse had a bit of color high in his cheeks - a feat, to be sure, considering his dark-skinned complexion normally hid his blushes admirably.

Gabriel jerked his head towards the people working behind the counter, searching out for the one that his protege had a crush on - because that had to be the answer, the reason Jesse was shy about explaining. Jesse immediately protested, elbowing Gabriel in the gut. “Stoppit, boss,” he hissed. “Just leave it alone, yeah? Y’ don’t need ta worry.”

There were only two people in the front, but they were moving through the line quickly; the first was a young man with a hospital mask over his face, brown eyes warm. He moved like a dancer - a fighter, Gabriel quickly noted, as he watched the way those brown eyes roamed over the room, the scarring that was not hidden by the mask, and the wary air. It made Gabriel suspicious, and he hoped this wasn’t the guy Jesse was crushing on.

The second person was a young man, dark skin shiny with sweat even though he was wearing a green sleeveless tank, locks tied up at the nape of his neck and glasses perched on his nose. This person moved like a dancer, _not_ a fighter; he didn’t have that same situational awareness that the other young man had. Both were very young-looking - or perhaps Gabriel just felt old.

Probably the latter.

One more step found Gabriel and Jesse at the front of the line, and while Gabriel was debating whether to pick up an actual food item or just stick with coffee, Jesse leaned on the counter. It took Gabriel a moment to realize Jesse was teasing and talking with the two young men, which automatically meant that he wasn’t crushing on these two; Jesse was bad at talking to people he liked.

“Did you decide on what you wanted, sir?”

The voice jerked Gabriel out of his thoughts, and he sighed, shaking his head. “The ultimate caramel latte thing, there. Middle sized. And one of those chocolate croissants down there.”

The kid’s eyes were a warm hazel, inviting and calming. “For here or to go, sir? We got some tables still open if you wanna sit down, take some time?”

Gabriel glanced over at Jesse, who was still laughing with the other server, and sighed. “For here. Might as well.”

“Awesome! Here’s your number; we’ll call it up, and it’ll be projected there at the pick-up counter. Thanks for shopping at Cafe 76!”

Moving away from the order counter with his ticket, Gabriel frowned at the name. He hadn’t noticed it walking into the shop, and now he didn’t know why it was niggling the back of his mind. 76. It was an important number, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember why…

Pushing it out of his mind, he ambled over to one of the few tables that were unoccupied and had more than one seat, sitting down and crossing his arms. People gave him a wide berth in general, and it served him well now - no one crowded him, and everyone tried to pretend he didn’t exist. That was what happened when your face was all scarred up and damaged, Gabriel knew. The scars were mostly healed by now, no longer shiny and new, but they were still vivid and clear against his dark skin, and he knew he looked like a monster.

“Didn’t expect ya t’stick around. Thought for sure you’d be back at th’ office by now,” Jesse said, moving to the other seat and dropping into it.

Gabriel snorted. “You just don’t want me sniffing around to see who your crush is.”

Groaning, Jesse pulled his hat low over his eyes and liquified a little in his chair, sinking down like a scolded child. “He’s not even out here right now,” Jesse muttered.

“Oh, so one of the bakers, huh?” Gabriel said, feeling himself slowly relax by the easy bantering.

Jesse shot up like a rocket, cheeks colored again, just as they called Gabriel’s number and, chuckling, Gabriel got up to snag his coffee. The pick-up counter had about three or four drinks on it, and he paused a moment to correctly identify the one he had ordered.

There was a sudden swell of noise, and, paranoid, Gabriel looked up to see the source. But it was just that the kitchen’s doors had opened, and there was a young-ish woman there, hair pulled back in a bun, pinned with one of those fancy hair pins with a Chinese character dangling from it; probably the good fortune character, as it was the most common. Her cheeks were red from heat, and she was pretty short, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and hands covered in flour. “Lucio!” she was saying to the second young man behind the counter, some strands of her hair loose enough to sway from her breath. “Did you - ”

But Gabriel wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. Instead, he was staring into the back of the kitchen, at broad shoulders and thinning blond hair, a tie-dye colored shirt spread across cords of muscles.

Mechanically, he turned and went back to his seat. Jesse was still grumbling under his breath about Gabriel’s nosiness and inability to let his employees have a life, dammit, but Gabriel wasn’t even listening anymore. He was pulling out his phone, dialing up Ana.

“Boss? You okay?” Jesse asked, subdued.

He knew why the kid was worried - knew that his flashbacks and PTSD was nothing to mess with, that he should be seeing someone for it but he was stubborn and scared - but he didn’t have the energy or strength to acknowledge the question. Distantly, he realized his hand was shaking as he brought the phone to his ear.

“ _Marhaba_ , Gabriel! I didn’t expect a call from you to- ”

“I think I just saw Jack Morrison.”

There was a moment of silence - all Gabriel could hear was Ana’s breathing, slow in the receiver, every other noise faded to background as he remembered blood on the ground, blue eyes staring up in shock and betrayal, the cold dismissal from service as he was discharged “under honorable conditions.” What honor they meant, he had never known, or understood.

He was a monster.

“Gabriel,” Ana said, and her voice was gentle. “Gabriel, is anyone with you?”

He didn’t deserve gentle; he had fucked up, fucked up so badly he had been removed from his pack and sent to the civilian sector, unable to find work until Reinhardt and Ana had taken pity on him and hired him to be a part of their investigative services. He -

“ _Gabriel_.”

Her voice wasn’t gentle now; it was a whiplash, and he let out a soft gasp as his lungs realized he hadn’t been breathing.

“Gabriel, tell me who is nearby you.”

“Je - Jesse,” he said weakly, eyes starting to refocus as he looked for the younger man.

Said younger man was apparently right by his side, those hazel eyes more gold now as his wolf surged to the surface, protective and worried.

“Give Jesse the phone, Gabriel.”

Jesse’s ears were good enough to hear the words, and without asking the kid took the phone delicately from Gabriel with his good hand, pushed Gabriel’s coffee up to his mouth with the prosthetic one. “Drink, boss. Get some sugar in ya.”

Gabriel stared down at the frothy drink, the golden lines of fake caramel streaking the tan-colored liquid. Like blood, and how it streaked across his face, stained that pretty white boy’s jaw.

Shuddering a little, he closed his eyes and took a hesitant sip.

The sugar did help, enough that he could catch the tail-end of Jesse’s conversation. “- just wanted ta get outta th’ office. Naw, I didn’t - Cafe 76. I c’n try, but I ain’t sure he’ll go for that. Didn’t do nothin’, jus’ some shakin’. Enough for me ta notice. Got his beanie on. I’ll be here with ‘im ‘til it’s all settled.”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel rasped.

“He’s aware enough ta say ‘is catchphrase,” Jesse added on wryly.

It wasn’t his catchphrase. That was uncalled for.

“ ’Kay, boss. I’ll letcha know.”

Jesse dragged the chair from across Gabriel to next to Gabriel, so that when he sat down his shoulder and thigh was bumping into Gabriel’s shoulder and thigh. He handed Gabriel’s phone back to him, leaned a little heavily onto Gabriel’s side. “You need anythin’, boss? Fresh air? Water?”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel repeated, voice less weak now, a bit more confident. “Just - surprised. Never expected to see… Anyway. Is. Is that your crush?”

“Who?” Jesse asked, confused, then shook his head. “No, you know what, don’t worry about it, just breathe right now. Yer still shakin’ like a leaf. What didja have for breakfast?”

“Your chocolate croissant, sir.”

The two of them looked up to see the other young man - the one with the hospital mask - standing in front of them with a steaming, flaky croissant on a small plate, as well as a black coffee. The coffee Jesse took and set on the table; the plate, the young man put in front of Gabriel with a look of concern.

“You alright, Jesse?” the kid asked.

“We’re good, thanks, Genji,” Jesse said, still leaning heavily against Gabriel. On the one hand, Gabriel hated looking weak, particularly in a room full of people who already looked terrified of him, but on the other hand, the grounding was helpful, was pushing back the memories and fears that were bubbling in the back of his mind. He didn’t push Jesse away, but he did scowl at the plate. “I didn’t hear them call my number,” he growled. “Thank you for bringing it to me.”

Jesse tilted his head, the hat absurd as he looked up at Genji. The two of them seemed to share a silent moment, but Gabriel focused on trying to keep his hand steady as he reached out for the croissant. Sugar would be good. It wasn’t one of his worst flashbacks, but it definitely wasn’t an easy one either.

Jack fucking Morrison.

* * *

When Gabriel had been a young idiot (as opposed to an older one), he had signed up for the U.S. Army Supernatural Forces. He had been one of the only wolves in his school, definitely one of like seven supernatural creatures in the school he was at. His parents had been very insistent about he and his sisters getting a good education, so they had enrolled them into a private religious school.

Gabriel didn’t subscribe to any religion, but he jumped on the chance for education. He loved mathematics and language both, but his true passion was theater. He loved being the center of attention and it served him well throughout his high school career.

Then, his parents had died.

They had been the only wolves, the only pack, Gabriel had ever known - his two eldest sisters had also been wolves, but they moved away for their colleges, joined packs, and never again really interacted with Gabriel. His third sister had been the baseline human - still the most common type of human, even with the resurgence of the supernatural community after the omnic wars fifteen or thirty years ago - and she had did her best to care for Gabriel, to keep him in college, to have him stay out of trouble.

A young wolf, without a pack, was the very definition of trouble.

He was not so far gone as to realize how much he was hurting her, and so after she had bailed him out of jail for stupid shit like vandalism or something - he honestly could not remember, beyond that it had been the fourth time that month - he had been walking to hang out with the other supernatural buddies he’d found and saw the recruitment office.

The army had been a great place for him. Sure, he hated killing - had once thought of himself as a pacifist, honestly, because he hated tension and he hated conflict - but the army had _structure_ , something he could reinterpret into pack, and it settled his wolf a hell of a lot more effectively than the ragtag group of supernaturals that had struggled to find kin and had to settle for each other. He trained well, obeyed well, and had a quick eye. It got him promoted, quickly, until he was the squad sergeant and head of their little bundle. Not a lot of supernaturals signed up for Uncle Sam - the years spent hiding from the very government forces that now suddenly wanted supernatural recruits was fresh in many supernaturals’ minds - so his platoon had been solely for the “supernaturals” who had chosen to sign up for the program. Not that there was enough to completely fill out the ranks of the platoon, but the group was almost 80% supernaturals, where in every other platoon out there the rate was more like 2%.

He had met Jack Morrison in the army.

Jack Morrison was another squad sergeant, for a group of supernaturals that were more of the blood side of things. Vampires, one or two of the banesidhes, a wyrm. Jack Morrison was as baseline as they come, solidly normal from Bloomington, Indiana of all places, but he had never treated the supernaturals as beneath him, or as lesser. He’d always respected their knowledge and skill, even when he wasn’t completely sure of their skills or culture. Not that Gabriel had any leg to stand on in that regard; his parents had been werewolves, but they had left their pack to raise their children in a good environment, and so Gabriel never really learned the werewolves’ culture properly. What he knew he picked up from being around a few other shifters and werewolves.

In any case, his and Morrison’s squad had often been paired together, particularly when the colonels realized how well they were in sync with one another. Morrison’s squad didn’t particularly like many of Gabriel’s squad, but enough did that they would share the same downtime, would often spar together in the rec or share range time.

Until Gabriel’s loss of control. Until his discharge.

Until he murdered most of Morrison’s squad, and half of his own.

* * *

He sat on his couch, staring mindlessly at the television, until his asshole cat start kneading his thigh, claws out. Hissing, he growled and looked down at the little death machine. She stared at him, yellow eyes judgemental, and meowed plaintively.

“You have food,” he grumbled. “You have a lot of food. What did you do?”

Nymeria curled her tail around her feet and stared Gabriel down.

With a sigh, Gabriel heaved himself off of his couch. His apartment was run-down, on the rougher side of town, with the bare minimum of furniture. He hadn’t invited anyone here, hadn’t ever had anyone of his work friends over, mostly because he had enough judgement in his life and didn’t need any more.

...Jesse didn’t count. Obviously.

The kitchen had one of those cheap build it yourself ikea-like tables that Gabriel had found at a thrift store, and one chair. Jesse hadn’t noticed, or hadn’t commented, when Gabriel had brought him back to his apartment, but then again, Jesse had been pulled out of the middle of a job because he was running a high temperature. No one knew at the time where Jesse lived, and he had been hallucinating. Gabriel, being a werewolf as well, volunteered to take Jesse to his home. At the time, Jesse was barely twenty one, the first freelancer they had taken on, and the other full-time employees (all two of them) did not have the supernatural strength to restrain a flailing or scared werewolf.

Still, Jesse wasn’t here - it was just Nymeria, the little black devil, and Gabriel. And Nymeria’s food bowl, which was almost completely full.

“What the hell,” Gabriel growled, as Nymeria walked past him and started eating. After a few seconds, Nymeria looked up at him and meowed again.

Gabriel sighed. Nymeria wasn’t a very social eater, but she had her moments. Since he was here already, he went to the fridge and opened it.

He didn’t have a lot of food, but he had a leftover sandwich from work. Grumbling, he picked it up and started to open it up, still lost in thought.

Jack fucking Morrison.

He never thought he’d see the little white boy again. He had… he had had a crush on Morrison, had enjoyed when their paths crossed or when they were assigned to the same mission. They had been stationed in Turkey, had run operations into Russia as well as into Libya and Egypt; while the omnic wars were over, people still used them to menace society, and they were part of the massive effort to reclaim all omnic chassis and dismantle them. Their platoon was one of about seven from the U.S. that were stationed around the world to work on that reclamation project; most squads went by themselves to reclaim, but sometimes someone would have reprogrammed or turned on an omnic, which required at least two if not three squads, sometimes even the whole platoon if it was a big enough threat.

Most of the days, he had loved his job. He might not have other werewolves in his unit, but he had more than a few shifters, a witch or two, and a elf. They had been a family, people he had respected and whom he had earn their respect. Even with Morrison’s squad, with the large amount of blood drinkers who hated him and his own team, there were enough people in it who didn’t mind him that he had felt… at home.

He had spent the past six years violently repressing all of that, the scenes only coming to him in his (frequent) nightmares. He didn’t remember that night, couldn’t remember what had happened, only that by the end of it he was surrounded by dead bodies, and John Morrison’s barely-breathing, staring-in-horror face looking up at him.

He had honestly thought they were going to simply kill him. That’s what you did, with monsters - you killed them. You didn’t simply stick them in a jail, hold a hearing, and then discharge them.

He had spent almost two full years as drunk or as out of his mind as he could, working as a bouncer under the table, until he had been walking down the street and saw a little girl run into the street. He hadn’t thought; he’d leapt forward and grabbed her, pulled her out of harm’s way.

That had been when he had met Ana and her daughter, and Ana’s second husband Reinhardt (Willhelm was his first name, but he always went by his last). They had started a private investigative company, but needed someone who could help lighten the load. He hadn’t a good background check, he knew it, which was why it had been so hard to find work.

Not that he had tried hard, considering. If he knew how to end his own life… well. Eight years ago, he would have taken it.

Now… now he probably wouldn’t. He might not have the life he imagined, but he had Ana, who had his back and knew his backstory, and Jesse, the werewolf he’d rescued from his gang and helped to his feet, got him to get his GED and college degree. There weren’t a lot of werewolves in California, so he was happy to be a mentor - even if he was a poor mentor, considering how much he did not know about werewolf culture.

Still, he had a pack. A family. And even though he kept his space, kept his distance, because he didn’t know what had caused his going berserk in the first place - even though he kept his distance, he still had important connections now.

It hadn’t worried him, until he had seen fucking _Jack Morrison_.

There was a knock on his door.

He looked up from where he had been staring at the sandwich, unwrapped and sitting there uselessly. Nymeria shot under the sagging old couch and hissed.

Nymeria didn’t like visitors. She liked werewolves, for some reason. Most animals didn’t - most animals didn’t like shapeshifters in general - but. In any case. Nymeria didn’t like visitors. And the person on the other side of the door wasn’t Jesse, otherwise Nymeria wouldn’t have reacted like that.

Gabriel stared at the door, and debated just ignoring the knocking.

Still, it was better to send whoever it was away.

With a soft huff, he got up, ignoring the sandwich, and opened the door.

Ana stood there, eyebrow raised at him.

Heaving a sigh, he turned around and stormed into his apartment. “I don’t give out my address for a reason, Amari,” he growled.

“Yes, I can see that,” she said archly, looking around the area. “I know we pay you better than this.”

Gabriel didn’t know how to say that he deserved these or worse living conditions, and that his money he put aside and paid out to the families of the people he killed, so he kept quiet.

“Now I know why you never volunteered to babysit Fareeha,” Ana muttered, glancing around the apartment. “This is… a serial killer’s apartment, Gabriel. What do you do here - no, this is why you stay at the office all the time, isn’t it? Makes so much sense, now.”

“Are you here just to talk about my living conditions? For the eight years you knew me, you never were curious, you didn’t notice, and this isn’t the time for it.”

Ana sat down on the couch and grimaced. “Did you get this at a dumpster, Gabriel?”

“ _Ana._ ”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Are you sure it was Jack Morrison, Gabriel?”

“I’d recognize those shoulders anywhere,” he muttered gruffly, knowing for sure because he’d seen those shoulders before, protecting him and standing between him and danger. “I just - I wasn’t. Expecting him. It wasn’t - I wasn’t expecting it. Him.”

Ana looked up at him, then patted the (small) space beside her. “Sit down, Gabriel. Tell me, has he done anything to indicate that he knows you’re there?”

“Well, no,” Gabriel grumbled, sitting down and rubbing the back of his neck. “I just - I nearly _killed_ him, Ana. I would have - I don’t even - what do I _do_?”

For a long moment, they sat there in silence, and then Ana sighed. “What do you want to have happen, Gabriel? Do you want to see him again? Or do you _never_ want to see him again?”

Gabriel considered for a long time, silent, Ana beside him, before he said hoarsely, “I need to know why it - why I did that. What happened. And… I loved him, Ana.”

“Loved? Or love?” she asked quietly.

He leaned back against the sofa, head tilted up, and he was old, he was scarred, he’d never had a steady relationship since he joined the army at twenty-four, he had _killed_ their squads… but he wanted. He wanted so badly to see Jack again. Their relationship had been so easy, so calming, they had just _clicked_ …

“Love,” he whispered. “But I can’t do anything about it. I can’t - I can’t initiate it.”

Ana patted his knee. “We’ll figure it out. Also, come home with me tonight.”

The change of topic nearly gave Gabriel whiplash. He craned his head towards her. “What?”

“Don’t stay here. This is depressing, Gabriel. Wilhelm and I will come here and clean this place up. You can’t live like this.”

“Ana, I’ve been living like this for a very long time. I’m not changing it.”

She patted his cheek and stood up. “That’s very sweet, Gabriel. It’s changing. Come home with me tonight, bring your demon, and eat with us, eat with Fareeha and Angela and Wilhelm and myself. Jesse and Lena and Emily will be there. Jamison might even stop by.”

“I _can’t_ , Ana. I can’t - you _know_ why I can’t,” he growled.

“You’re worrying too much, Gabriel. You haven’t hurt us for eight years, one more night will not hurt.”

It was the principle of the thing, so Gabriel folded his arms. “If that’s the only reason you came here - ”

“Yes, Gabriel, I came here because you nearly had an episode in a public area. You need to be around - ”

“People who will stress me as much as anything else. I’m alone here, Ana. I like it here. If I wanted to change it, I would have.”

She regarded him stiffly, eyes hard and jaw tight. “Isolating yourself as a wolf is not healthy, Gabriel.”

“I’ll continue it until it doesn’t work out,” Gabriel snarled.

“Stop _doing_ this, Gabriel! We are your family, Jesse is your _pup_ , you can’t keep us all at an arm’s length, you have to engage with us because you are dying without family! We all can see it, and you’re getting worse, Gabriel. You’re getting _worse_.”

“Get out of my house,” Gabriel ground out between gritted teeth.

After a few tense moments, Ana turned on her heel and walked back towards the front door. “I can’t make you do anything, Gabriel. I can’t, Jesse can’t, even Jack can’t. Only you can. Until you accept that, until _you_ decide to change _yourself_ , you will remain here. Remain in this lifeless house, with no food, with a demon cat that just wants you to be happy, and you can change that, if you’ll just _let_ yourself be happy. We, all of us, we just want you to be _happy_.”

* * *

He was an idiot.

He stared at the warm lighting in the windows of Cafe 76. It wasn’t even six in the morning - their opening time.

What was he doing here? There was nothing for him here. By all rights, Jack should want him dead. He _should_ have been dead, or in jail for the rest of his life.

Gabriel started to walk away towards the office, then turned and walked back. He needed to know. He hadn’t had anyone tell him what he done that night, what had happened, and he _needed_ to know. He was terrified of it happening again, of what had triggered his murderous rage.

But it wasn’t fair to Jack. He couldn’t ask that of him. And, hell, they weren’t even open. What was his game plan? Walk in and ask to speak to the baker? Interrupt Jack’s work day to make him relive that horrible night.

He turned around and began to walk down the street. It was much earlier than he normally went in to work, but he needed the distraction after seeing Jack yesterday, after stirring up all those bad memories. It was still - honestly, he didn’t remember the date. Definitely it wasn’t the actual holiday _day_ , because if it was, none of the shops on the city streets would have been open; or, at least, more of them would be dark. But it was definitely close to the actual day, so no one else should be in the office. He’d have it to himself. He could look up Jack, even, run some background on Cafe 76. Get a few of the cases wrapped up and written down so that they didn’t have them waiting for them when the new year started.

* * *

 

A bright smell lifted the atmosphere of the office, and involuntarily, Gabriel felt his nose twitch, pull him out of his paperwork. He glanced up to see Jesse standing in the general waiting room. There shouldn’t be anyone in the office today at all, and Gabriel’s brow creased in annoyance. It was that masked young man from that cafe the other day - Genji, he remembered. Genji was standing in the general waiting room of their offices, and the smell was coming from a basket or box he was holding, Jesse standing there, talking with him.

Almost unwillingly, Gabriel stood up and opened his office door.

The two of them turned to look at him, the young delivery boy warily, Jesse eagerly. Jesse had been worried about Gabriel since the other day, when he’d had that attack in the cafe, and Gabriel had stubbornly denied all questions about his state. Now, though, his nose twitching at the baked smell rising through the air, he cleared his throat. “What’s this all about, then?”

Now that he could firmly see the young man out from behind a counter, he realized that Genji was dragon-kin, a whip-thin tail trailing along behind him and legs just the slightest bit wrong. Genji’s warm brown eyes winked at him.

“Just keeping him abreast of what my _brother_ has been doing these past few weeks,” Genji remarked slyly.

Interestingly, Jesse’s ears flushed a dull red as he dropped his head, the brim of his hat throwing his face into a shadow. “Y’all don’t gotta be mean about it,” he muttered. “ ‘Sides, aren’t I one o’yer best customers? Should be treatin’ me a mite nicer, I’d think.”

“I bet _Hanzo_ would love to treat you _nicely_ ,” Genji purred.

If possible, Jesse went even _more_ red, and he folded his arms. “Y’ain’t a nice person, Genji.”

Gabriel felt his shoulders fall as he relaxed more readily, and laughed. “Is that who you were there to see? Hoping to, at least?”

With a laugh, Genji placed the box down and then pulled out a steaming cup of coffee from a small carry-bag Gabriel hadn’t noticed. Hopping over to Gabriel’s side, he patted Gabriel’s shoulder and placed the cup in his hands. “Ultra caramel latte with sea salt on top. Just the way you like it.”

Gabriel blinked at it, and then at Genji, who was on his way out of the office. “But how - ” he began.

The door closed behind Genji.

Yesterday, he had ordered the ultra caramel latte, yeah, but not with sea salt. He loved salty-sweet things; it was a particular weakness of his. He hadn’t even known he _could_ order sea salt on top of the latte. Where had that come from?

Frowning, Gabriel retreated into his office - but not before snagging one of the warm rolls to go along with his coffee.

* * *

“Jesse told me you were in the office today.”

Gabriel scowled at his desk. “I almost didn’t answer the phone, Ana.”

Her voice sounded tinny through the receiver - and exasperated. “You shouldn’t have. We’re not open, Gabriel. What if I _was_ a client? What would you have done?”

“Done my impression of a voicemail message,” he growled. “Are you just calling me to bother me?”

“I told you. Jesse stopped by a while ago with some presents for Lindholm’s grandkids, and he mentioned that you were in the office when he went to pick up the bag he’d left there yesterday.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, unsure why his heart was suddenly beating faster and it was harder to breathe, Gabriel shook his head. “If I get this shit done now, you and Reinhardt won’t haveta worry about it come January. I don’t have anything else to do, anyway.”

“You used to. You need to relax, Gabriel. This year is harder for you. You weren’t this wrapped up in work last year, or the year before. What’s going on? Why won’t you let anyone help you?” Ana’s voice was cautious, as if aware that Gabriel had a temper, as if _scared_ of Gabriel’s temper, and that...

Gabriel unconsciously clenched his fist, felt the shift creeping up on him as he got defensive and angry that she was scared - and if that wasn’t an indication that Ana was right…

“Jesse would love to hang around the office with you, if you didn’t chase him off or ignore him entirely,” Ana continued, voice still that damnably quiet and soft, insistent tone. “Hell, Fareeha would probably _love_ to get away from family and spend some time out of the house, if you called her up and asked her to stick around a bit. Instead, you’re ignoring all my invitations. Even Mako told me you declined your usual standing anniversary to go sit at a bar and drink in silence. And you turned down Amelie’s invitation to meet her new girlfriend. Normally you go out with either Amelie, or Sombra, or Jamison. What happened?”

“Fuck if I know, Amari,” Gabriel growled, voice almost guttural, the office around him suddenly going hazy, as if he couldn’t see it, or see his surroundings. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and he wondered if werewolves went crazy after a time. Maybe his parents didn’t die in an accident; maybe their hearts burst because of some stupid biology thing -

“Did something happen to Akande? Or with Akande? Is it that you don’t have him around? What _happened_ this year, Gabriel?”

“I _don’t know_ , Ana! Just leave me the hell alone!” he snarled into the phone, slamming down the receiver and shoving back from his desk, his chair toppling over. His vision was splitting, as if his shift was dragging at his skin. He hadn’t unwillingly or unconsciously changed since - since that night, to be honest. Not even as a, as a child or pup had he lost control over his other form.

Shaking, he stepped back from his desk, looking at his claw-tipped fingers, and tried to slow his breathing.

She was right, of course. Even though he’d always been a grinch, never really liking the holidays at all, he’d still gone out drinking with Amelie and Sombra, the company’s hacker-on-retainer (hated being called by her birth name, Mariana, and in fact only Gabriel knew about that name). He’d had a soft spot for Mako and his ward-slash-boyfriend-slash-headache, Jamison. He’d had a friends-with-benefits relationship with Akande Ogundimu, another ex-military man who taught self defense at the local Y. And even if Akande had gotten a permanent relationship, even if everyone else seemed to have found a partner or a maybe-partner this year, it shouldn’t be affecting him. He shouldn’t care. They were still his friends, right?

He had had people, last year. He had been around others. Why was this year different?

It couldn’t just be Jack. He saw him yesterday, not before then, and beyond that this was nowhere near the anniversary of Gabriel’s freakout ten years ago.

It was just him. It was just Gabriel, and what he feared was coming true - he was too dangerous and too deadly to be near people anymore. Whatever happened in the army was happening again. He had a good run, but he was almost fifty and there was no way he could continue being a danger to those around him. He needed to keep the people around him safe. He needed to get out of the city, get away from the people he cared about, before he went berserk again.

* * *

He was at his apartment, throwing some meager items into a pack - just some basic wilderness survival tools, like a lighter, a knife, and a few changes of clothes, because he could pick up and go, just leave the city and travel into the mountains - when there was a knock at the door.

If it was Ana again…

He felt the rage rise one more time, the sheen of red fall over his gaze, and deliberately tried to pull his emotions under control. He couldn’t harm her. He couldn’t do anything to his oldest friend.

It took an embarrassingly long time to control the shift, to pull back from that edge. When he felt he could answer without his teeth being too long in his mouth, without claws cutting into his palms, he opened the door.

Jack fucking Morrison stood there.

Jack…

* * *

He didn’t know what happened, honestly. He was on his couch, and he was… warm. Warmer than he could remember, considering the climate change and his stubborn refusal to use the central heating in  _ Irvaheim, California _ of all places. His apartment had always run on the cool side, which he had ignored because he was a  _ werewolf _ , he could keep himself warm if he needed to.

Something soft and fluffy was on his chest. Nymeria, probably. Though how he’d gotten back into his apartment - he had been at the door, someone had knocked. Nymeria hadn’t hissed, though.

_ Jack Morrison _ .

His heartbeat sped up in his ears, and the shift dragged at his skin, rippled under his flesh and rolled over his arms. There was a soft, canine whine, and a deep rough purring noise. But underneath both of those was something soft, something that spoke of home, and safety, and…

_ Pack _ .

He realized the television was on, some stupid cooking show - he loved those things, he really did, even if he ate like a scavenging raccoon most of the time - and there was something furry on his right side.

“J’ss,” he mumbled, blinking slowly, trying to bring everything into focus. It felt like he had run a mile in under a minute, limbs trembling and achy, chest tight and desperately sucking oxygen into his lungs. His head was cold - his beanie was off, and he was wearing a tank. He had had a jacket on, he was sure, and his beanie on. He had been leaving - he couldn’t stay if he was gearing up towards another berserk episode -

There was a long line of heat against his left side, from shoulder to thigh, and there were fingers against his curls, rubbing gently against his scalp.

“You with us, Edgelord?”

The voice was - raspier, throatier. Deeper.  _ Older _ . But he would have recognized it anywhere, that and the bone-deep comfort of his scent. Jack Morrison.

Jack Morrison was in his house.

He jerked forward, breath coming in soft, panicked gasps, and the huge form on his right - fluffy, soft, a little rangy and thin, actually - yelped softly and shifted, hazel-gold eyes looking up at him in concern. The weight on his chest dropped down to his lap, the purring interrupted, and Nymeria meowed reproachfully at him as she resettled on his lap - but he needed to  _ go _ , needed to get out of there  _ right now _ -

A heavy hand came to rest on the side of his throat, cupping gently to curve and stroke a thumb against the column of his spine. “Before you do anything, Gabe, I want you to take a deep breath.”

“I - I  _ can’t _ \- ” Gabriel stuttered.

“You can. You’re the bravest person I know, you can listen to my breathing and match it,” Jack murmured. “You ready?”

Weakly, pathetically, Gabriel nodded. If it happened - if he freaked out now - he didn’t know what he would do. Jesse was a werewolf, too, but he was still in that lanky adolescent stage. Gabriel was a massive wolf, and if he freaked out…

Hell, he could destroy everyone in the building. Would he  _ eat _ them… ?

“That’s - no, Gabe, like this, c’mon. You got it. Eyes here, you got it? Look at me,  _ mi amor _ .”

That had Gabriel laughing brokenly, jagged breaths starting to smooth out. “Your accent’s as bad as ever,” he forced out.

“Well, I haven’t had someone around to teach me for a while,” Jack muttered, but his voice was more amused and relieved than anything.

Jesse licked at Gabriel’s forearm, snuggling closer onto a couch that really wasn’t designed for three adult men.

“What are you doing here,” Gabriel said - a question, but his voice was tired, thready, and he couldn’t really summon the energy to do anything but breathe slowly.

Jack hummed. “Coincidence, mostly. But you came by the shop this morning while we were getting the pastries ready for the day, and Genji saw you, called me and Hanzo out to see you pacing in front of the shop. Good to see you hadn’t lost your flair for the dramatics.”

Gabriel grunted under his breath.

“Honestly, babe,” Jack continued, still stroking gently against Gabriel’s neck. “Because once I saw that you still had that in you, I knew you couldn’t have changed so much. I could try and talk to you. But then Jesse came by the shop later, said that I needed to talk to you today.”

“Interfering assholes,” Gabriel muttered.

Jesse boofed softly and nudged his head under Gabriel’s arm, shoving his snout across Gabriel’s lap and disrupting Nymeria, who took offense and batted at his sensitive nose until he retreated and tucked his nose against Gabriel’s thigh.

Gabriel laughed wetly, pulled his right hand up to swipe at the wetness streaking his face. “You should hate me,” he whispered. “Hell, I could kill every one of you right now. The whole building. I killed - ”

With a sigh, Jack tugged on Gabriel’s shoulders. “Out you go, Jesse. We’ll figure this out, don’t worry. Thanks for your concern. Oh, hey, take my wallet - bring us something to eat.”

“I have - ” Gabriel began, offended.

“I remember how you ate in the army,” Jack said disdainfully. “Something I can cook, Jesse, not takeout.”

Heaving a sigh, Jesse clambered off the couch and padded away. It would be harder for him to shop as a werewolf, but it would also take him a long while to change back. They would have time whether or not he decided to go shopping in his other form, which Gabriel figured was the point.

He still was a little blurry, a little out of it, not quite sure if this was just some particularly vivid dream he was having. He couldn’t figure out why Jack would be  _ here _ , with  _ him _ . He’d nearly killed him - he had stopped…

He didn’t even know why he stopped. He didn’t know what stopped him. Hell, maybe the full moon had gone down or some shit, though he hadn’t ever done that during a full moon, before or since.

The door closed.

“Alright. I’m gonna start by saying that I looked for you, Gabriel. All the army would tell me is that they discharged you. I knew your name, your serial number, but I looked for a year and saw nothing. I got out as soon as I could - you know I joined later than you, and my tour still had three years on it. Then I found you and… you had a life. You were part of a private investigation firm. I didn’t think you wanted anything more to do with me.”

“ _ You _ shouldn’t have wanted to have anything to do with  _ me _ ,” Gabriel choked out. “I nearly killed you, Jack.”

There was a long pause, and then Jack pushed Gabriel away. First sane thing he did, really, Gabriel thought, and then Jack was cupping Gabriel’s chin, making Gabriel look at him.

“ _ Look _ at me, you old fool.”

Gabriel let his eyes trace over that familiar face - now scarred, clawmarks across the bridge of his nose and his brow.

“You  _ saved _ me.”

Gabriel froze.

That.

That didn’t make sense.

“Petras had me, had his fangs in my neck, and you knocked me aside and tore him to  _ shreds _ . He was quiet - you weren’t.”

It was like - like a skipping record, or old disc - a jerk over memories, over and over, trying to understand and comprehend what Jack was saying. It didn’t make  _ sense _ .

“No, I… there were bodies, and you - you were scared, looking - you were looking up at me…” Gabriel said slowly.

“Yeah, there were bodies. I found out that Petras was sneaking locations of omnic chasses to - I don’t know. I suppose the brass would check that out, because they took that from me. But I confronted him. He - he pulled fang on me, bespelled me. You were supposed to come over for our poker game, your squad and you, and you came looking for me. I was - hell, Gabe.” Jack’s voice was rough, and Gabriel realized that one eye was cloudy, the other had laser or mechanical correction; something to allow him to see. “I was nearly dead. I was - you knocked me down, ripped Petras to shreds. You were a huge half-wolf, half-man shift I’d never seen before. I thought werewolves could only pick, one skin or the other. You pulled his head off his shoulders like pulling the cork on a bottle of wine. Then my squad came in and started attacking you, and your squad jumped to defend you.

“It was just shitty timing. It was - I should’ve taken my concerns to the brass. I was demoted, stripped of my rank.”

Gabriel reached up, curled his fingers against Jack’s shirt. “I thought you were dead,” he whispered. “I thought I k-killed y-you.”

Jack pulled him tight - probably to hug, but all the shifting had gotten Nymeria caught between them and she let out a hiss and scratched at Gabriel’s chest. With a soft laugh, Jack pulled back and stood up from the couch. “Look, Gabe, I seriously don’t know what they told you, but you were protecting me. You and me, you said, yeah? Sol y luna, yeah?”

“Your accent still sucks,” Gabriel laughed, breathing in slowly. That still didn’t - that didn’t help as much as he thought it would. “I don’t - I’m still, I can still hurt people. I’m losing my temper with people I wouldn’t, I’m - I can’t even take real cases because I wolfed out on a case without meaning to. I’m - I’m dangerous, Jack. You just walking into my life - ”

“You live like a homeless person, Gabe,” Jack muttered. “You don’t even have a bed, you have a  _ pile _ of  _ blankets _ on the  _ floor _ .” He clearly hadn’t meant for Gabriel to hear that - it was mostly muttered under his breath - before saying louder, interrupting Gabriel, “It doesn’t matter. I’m sure you have friends, and they’ll want to help. Have you joined a pack, or are you still trying to lone-wolf it? There have been a lot of scientific studies about how werewolves need a support system - ”

* * *

The bell rung as Gabriel walked into Cafe 76, Jesse at his side. He was meeting up with Amelie here; she was going to help him on one of his cases, and he figured he may as well treat her to a nice meal.

“Hey, there’s our Reaper of the Bunnies,” Genji said, eyes crinkled.

The dragon-kin was the younger brother of the owner of the cafe, and the two of them had a large estate on the outskirts of the city where Jesse and Gabriel could shapeshift and run freely without having to worry. It was a blessing in disguise; turns out there was a lot of truth to Jack’s ‘research’ and werewolves needed a place to call pack, a place to run wild, and a place to call their own. Jack had, well.

Jack’s personal nickname for Gabriel (honestly, since their army days) was Edgelord, and he teased him relentlessly with it. He used it to cajole him into seeing one of the (many; who knew?) supernatural therapists around the city. Months later, Gabriel felt both more stable and, well. More happy.

He hadn’t really let go of the deaths he had caused, not fully. That had been his squad, and whether or not he was at fault didn’t change that he had been their leader, and he was responsible for them. He was still over protective of the people he had adopted into his little family - his  _ pack _ \- and he held tighter than he should sometimes to them. He didn’t know how to relinquish that control, and he didn’t know how to let Jesse and particularly Fareeha and Sombra how to make their own mistakes. He was snappy and moody, and Jack was still that whitebread asshole that had taken him down in the sparring room the first time they had met in the army - he kicked Gabriel’s ass regularly and forced Gabriel to face a lot of things he didn’t want to face.

But it was his life. It was better. He was living with Jack, now ( _ Do you really want to keep living in this building, Gabe, if you think Jesse is comfortable coming here you’re crazy, you literally have a drug dealer sitting on the stoop of this building _ ). Even Amelie and Jamison had commented on how much better he seemed, and they were some of the most self-centered people Gabriel had ever met.

He had a life. It wasn’t the best one, and it wasn’t what he had envisioned for his future. But as Jack came out from behind the kitchen, flour and sweat covering his brow, looking so irresistible that Gabriel couldn’t help but go over to the counter and kiss him senseless - as Genji teased them and Jesse groaned exaggeratedly and Amelie’s brows lifted high, well.

Gabriel was happy. He wasn’t perfect, his life wasn’t perfect, but he was  _ happy _ .

All thanks to Jack fucking Morrison.

That asshole.


End file.
